


possessions

by sleeponrooftops



Series: raising webhead: a parenting guide, attempted by the science boyfriends [66]
Category: Iron Man - All Media Types, Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Incredible Hulk - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-12
Updated: 2013-09-12
Packaged: 2017-12-26 08:50:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/963984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleeponrooftops/pseuds/sleeponrooftops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wade has never needed to actually own things like clothes or buy things instead of stealing them, but living with Peter is opening up a whole new realm of options he hasn’t considered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	possessions

_One week later._

_February, 2029_

They move Wade in the following week.

 

Peter goes with him to Xavier’s, where Logan is making pitiful noises, lying face down on his bed, until Wade smacks him, and he gets up, smirking.  “I’m gonna miss you, kid,” he says, giving Wade a one-armed hug.

 

“Don’t be such a tosser,” Wade grumbles, pulling at Logan until he hugs him properly.  When Logan’s gone, Wade looks around and then holds up his hands.  “I didn’t pack,” he says, and Peter rolls his eyes.

 

“I can see that.”  And so they set about packing, which really only takes about an hour because Wade has, like, one pair of jeans, four shirts, one jacket, and briefs and socks for clothes, and the rest is the remainder of his books, which are really just a pile of comics, poets in different languages, and historical literature.  He’s also got a shit ton of weapons, which he piles into a creepy black duffel bag that Peter suspects has held a body on more than one occasion, and then it’s just his laptop, various electronics and _things_ lying around, and they’re done.

 

“You seriously need to get more clothes,” Peter says as they head out, carrying everything between them.

 

“Yeah, _fuck that_ ,” Wade grumbles, hoisting the duffel across his back as they approach his motorcycle.

 

“Come on, you’re going to be living with _me_ now.  You said yourself that you don’t wear the suit around me.”

 

“I don’t have _money_ for clothes,” Wade says, waiting for Peter to get on.

 

“Yeah, but I do.”

 

“If you want to buy me clothes, webhead, _go for it_.”

 

“You’re coming with me,” Peter says, and Wade groans.

 

The next day, after Wade’s snuck out of bed and made pancakes, and they’ve gotten sticky and giggly trying to eat them in bed, after Wade pins Peter down and licks over all the sticky parts until Peter is kicking at him and demanding they shower, after Peter slides to his knees in front of Wade and smirks up at him, after they finally, _finally_ , get dressed and say goodbye to Tony and Bruce, after Peter convinces Wade to take out one of the cars instead of the motorcycle because it’s _snowing_ and he’s already cold just thinking about it, after all of it, and Peter can’t even be mad because he loves how irregular mornings with Wade are, they finally make it to the mall, where Wade snorts and pulls up his hood, and Peter just rolls his eyes and refuses to hold his hand because it’s _snowing_ and he’s cold, so, of course, Wade just wraps his arms around him and they walk like ducks up to the mall doors until Peter can’t stop laughing, and he pushes Wade away.

 

Peter directs them first to Pac Sun, smacking Wade when he starts to grumble obscenely about hipsters, and he goes off in search of the piles of denim, tugging Wade along behind him until Wade gets distracted, and he leaves him to look at shirts while he glances back every so often, trying to judge his size.  He ends up with a few different sizes, herds Wade off into the direction of the changing rooms, and tries not to follow him, but Wade starts to sing loudly, and he goes with him, rolling his eyes.  He sits cross-legged on the small seat in the changing room, watching Wade undo the button on his jeans.  He’d managed to convince him to just dress in civvies so that it would be easier to shop, and he’d ended up in his ratty jeans and red sweatshirt, his favorite one, with his black cargo jacket thrown over it.

 

“Those,” Peter says when he tries on the second pair, “They fit nicely.”

 

“Yeah,” Wade says, shrugging one shoulder, “I guess they do.  They look so—clean.”

 

Peter laughs, dropping his head back, and Wade sneaks forward to press a kiss to his throat, smirking when Peter looks over at him.  They spend a while in Pac Sun because Peter put a hole through the knee of his favorite jeans, so they do equal parts shopping for each of them.

 

As they’re heading out, Wade reaches for Peter’s hand and asks, “What’s your favorite time of day?”

 

Peter is quiet for a moment, thinking, before he says, “Just before dusk.  It’s the perfect lighting.”

 

“Do you ever think about going into photography?  I’ve seen some of the stuff you’ve done, it’s pretty good.”

 

Peter shrugs, “I dunno, maybe.  You should let me do a study of you.”

 

“Another lifetime, maybe,” Wade says, and Peter just squeezes his hand.  They’re just past Spencer’s when Wade notices, and Peter groans, letting Wade turn them around.  “ _Dude_ ,” Wade hisses, smacking at him until Peter catches his wrist and follows his gaze.

 

“Woah,” he says, looking at the shirt with the spider logo on it, “Do you think that’s—no way.”

 

“Sick shirt, huh?” an employee says as he comes over, “He’s a crazy dude, Spiderman, but he’s pretty legit.  We sell a lot of those.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

The employee nods, and Peter grins, looking up at it until Wade leans forward, pressing a kiss to his cheek that makes him grin so wide it nearly hurts.  “I thought people knew who you were,” Wade says as they go deeper into the store.

 

“Kind of, not really,” Peter says, “I mean, when I was younger, the kids in my class knew I had powers, to a point, but then I stopped showing off and talking about it, and I think it started to fade.  Not a lot of people ever saw the shooters, either, and more often than not people just knew that something had happened to me, and it had affected my body in a weird way.  No one ever really knew the details, and so, now, years later, no one connects the dots.”

 

“Well, I guess that works, then.  Next question—favorite ice cream?”

 

“Why are you interrogating me?” Peter asks, watching Wade drift over to the dirty section.

 

“Because I feel like it.  Favorite ice cream?” he repeats.

 

“Mint chocolate chip,” Peter says, “Yours?”

 

“Chocolate peanut butter.  We should get ice cream before dinner like rebels.”

 

“Weirdo,” Peter says, and Wade responds by sneak attack kissing him, which only makes Peter giggle and reach for him.

 

After Spencer’s, they find Newbury Comics, where Wade gets his shirts, spending _forever_ looking at all the different options, and then they’re getting distracted by every different thing until Wade’s stomach starts grumbling, and they leave to find lunch, which ends up being Mexican.  “Do you have shoes?” Peter asks as they’re throwing away their trash.

 

“Kind of?”

 

“What does that even mean?”

 

“It means the last time I got a pair of shoes was the last time I needed a new pair.”

 

“You’re hopeless,” Peter says, and so then they go to Journey’s.  They even stop at Old Navy on their way out, which Wade looks mortified at the thought of going inside, but then he finds a ridiculously comfortable sweatshirt, and his smile is infectious.  They stop off at the bookstore before they leave the mall entirely, spend a few hours looking around, and, by the time they get back to the car, they’re laden with bags that take up much of the backseat.

 

They get ice cream on their way home, Wade stealing licks off Peter’s until Peter steals his ice cream, and then Wade is yelling inappropriate things, and Peter pretends he doesn’t know him.  When they finally get home and unload everything, they stand together, and Peter nods.  “There,” he says, “Now it actually looks like you live here.”

 

“The only thing missing is a guitar,” Wade says, and Peter looks at him, bewildered.

  
“You play the guitar?”

 

“That dick Summers stole mine, but yes, I play the guitar.”

 

“Okay fine, you can think he’s a dick if that story is true.”

 

“Only halfway, it was his first, and I stole it, so he stole it back.”

 

“Doesn’t count,” Peter says, so Wade tickles him.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m so sorry, you guys—I keep forgetting about this, which is horrible to say, but it’s so true. I’m so caught up in school—I’m constantly doing homework (why do I have so much reading this semester?) and figuring out things for my internship and trying to find time to sleep, I just can’t keep up. Anyway—don’t forget to leave your thoughts!


End file.
